


Fear

by DragonflyxParodies



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, AU, Because time traveling is definitely going to screw up your memories, Insanity, Kinda like an asylum AU, M/M, One Shot, Post-OoT, Short, Short One Shot, ish, this is standalone there is nothing else to this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 03:54:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12182406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonflyxParodies/pseuds/DragonflyxParodies
Summary: "I've been waiting for you."Are you really here?





	Fear

               His heart pounds in his throat, aches like he is choking on his own organs—and this time there is no one to pull them out, put him back in order—and he is _shaking_. Trembling, squeezing his hands together at his sides and putting one foot in front of the other so deliberately he fears he might just topple over.

He can hear them, ahead of him. Down the hall and in the courtyard.

“...I had a knight, once.” The voice is soft, absent. But there is a twist of dry wit left in it, and Link’s footsteps falter.

This is it. That’s his voice.

“Get down, you crazy bastard. You’ve got a visitor.”

Cold grey stone surrounds him, and thick wooden braces lean gently against the walls. The shutters still lay open, and the door has been pinned against the wall. The first time they’d met, the last time they’d met, sunlight had streamed in around him like some kind of halo. Now it seems to fall out of the doorway and windows in globs, fat smears of washed-out light and the scent of rain.

“…No.”

“Fuck—there’s a storm coming!”

“The Temple’s been silent for years now, dear. The storm’s long since passed.”

A long thread of curses answers the response, and Link steps outside. Into the courtyard.

The aide is flailing a broom, barely brushing the gutter. And Sheik is sprawled across the tiles slopping into the courtyard, head hanging over the edge and hair loose, spilling down like the bandages he’d once worn.

Sheik’s eyes crack open, little slivers of ruby, and Link cannot breathe.

Little curls of green poke out of the sandy earth around them, weak and pale in the desert sun. Signs of forgetful tending permeate the place, nothing like Zelda’s courtyards. They’d been tended to religiously, meticulously.

“Are you here?” Sheik asks suddenly, breaking the pounding quiet that has fallen over them. Uncertainty flashes across his face, and he moves, twisting his body until he is on his stomach.

“…Yeah.” Link coughs the word out like a stone.

The aide jumps, spins around and drops the broom in surprise.

Sheik’s expression is still so _vulnerable_ , fearful, but he nods his head a few times and swings himself over the edge of the roof all the same. He hits the sand with barely a sound, his grey uniform whispering against itself—too much space, too much cloth—as he straightens.

“Are you sure?”

Link nods, holds out a hand. He isn’t sure what to say, what else to do—everything he was had been so focused on _getting here_ for so long that…he’s lost.

But so is Sheik.

Warm, calloused fingers close around his, and Sheik is shaking just as badly as Link is.

“I’ve been waiting for you.”


End file.
